The Password is

Rewind.

up the path, words taken back, habits reattached.

Rewind.

up the scroll, heart on the toll, paid in full.

Rewind.

just an internet person, not a real person, not anymore.

Rewind.

a previous window, a former format, an erstwhile conversation.

Rewind.

Hope floated, mistakes gloated, egos bloated.

Rewind.

Just as far as hope.

Dip into the seafoam and try to trap the bubbles in the webbing of my thumb.

Rewind.

to be kind. to find time. to hold hope.be kind rewind

My fellow white Americans. — I Am Begging My Mother Not To Read This Blog

These are images from Charlottesville, Virginia last night. These are white people in their twenties and thirties. Like me. These are people who are in my generation, the millennial generation, the one frequently lambasted for “participation trophies” and “needing safe spaces.” These are people that look like my coworkers, my colleagues, my brothers, my cousins. […]

via My fellow white Americans. — I Am Begging My Mother Not To Read This Blog